


Reunion

by Laina_Inverse



Series: Triforce Reunification [3]
Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms
Genre: F/M, Family, Gen, M/M, Multi, Multipairing, Open Relationships, Teasing, not-really-arguments arguments
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-01
Updated: 2015-11-01
Packaged: 2018-04-29 11:13:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5125394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laina_Inverse/pseuds/Laina_Inverse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's been five years since she's set foot on Hylian soil, and things can change so much in that amount of time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Zelda

Zelda

 

It had taken longer than she'd anticipated, thanks to the interferences. If he'd just _stayed out_ , she could have been done with the desert in two years. Instead, because he had come mucking about for three, it took her five. Five to cleanse the desert, to purify it and restore it to a state where it could, at long last, start recovering on its own. 

She stood at the edge of the desert, weary and worn, then glanced over her shoulder at the place where the prison had once stood. It had been her first target for purifying, and if that idiot hadn't come out, it would have been dust long before he'd gone in.

She sighed a little, and shook her head. Of course Ganon would return to the desert. It had, at one time, been  _his_ . It was no longer, but he'd needed to make sure of that himself, obviously. And muck up her planned fixes in the interim, because he  _did_ that.

Well, no matter. She was done now, at long last. The desert could go to the moldorm, the lizalfos, the moblins...Whichever way it would tip now, was no longer her problem.

No, her problems were normal and mundane. With the last of her requisite task completed—in far shorter time than she'd anticipated, delays and all—her mortality had been returned. All she had to do now was check on a few other places in a calm and unconnected manner, and then... well, the future was, for once, a blank page. It was exciting.

Raiha slid casually down the incline towards Lake Hylia, a small, beatific smile on her face. Sure, there was sand in places where it wasn't comfortable, her clothes were rather worn, and she herself needed a bath like nobody's business, but still... it was good to finally be free.

Diving into the cool water was a shock to a system that had grown used to the desert heat, the warm pools of oasis she'd called forth. No spirit spring; the desert was healing, but not  _healed_ , and in truth, it was not really  _part_ of Hyrule. It was not under the Queen's jurisdiction, and it never had been, despite occasionally being casually annexed by the nobility who thought it might bear some profit.

It was a welcome shock, however, and partially mitigated by the Zora tunic she wore that allowed her to breathe underwater, and communicate with the Zora people. Which were, of course, the first of the Hyrulean people that she  _did_ communicate with, considering that Lake Hylia was part of the territory that was theirs.

She spent a week within the lake, swimming and listening by turn as the Zora informed her of the events they knew of. They were not, by any stretch, as communal with Hylians as the Gorons were, but they were able to fill her in on many details of the past five years. Zelda shedding the title of princess and upgrading to Queen was no surprise. Zelda having a  _baby_ , on the other hand, rather was. 

The news of the slowly settling unrest was also unsurprising; she had known her wish would manifest in occasionally odd ways, but then, balance in all things was hardly an easy status to maintain. It would be a worthwhile endeavor, to be certain, but not an easy one.

At the end of the week, when she had retrieved news, and a few other things the Zora had kept safe for her, she took the path up to the plains, and looked around.

The walls around the Markets were still very much a work in progress, but they were higher than she'd expected them to be. After a moment she saw why, and stifled a smile; Gorons were very good with stone, and if she was assessing correctly,they made up over half of the beings working on the walls. With them watching, naturally things would go easier and faster.

She joined the flow of people heading into Castle Town with their carts and goods for sale, keeping her hood up to avoid people remarking upon her appearance. She had been told by the Zora that Ganon had returned and was now Master of the Guard; knowing him, he would immediately pounce on the news of a red-haired, brown-skinned, golden-eyed woman in town. And while she was looking forward to seeing them all again, she was not so inclined to rush into it.

It had been, after all, five years. And while there had been no suggestion that Queen Zelda had taken a husband, there was the fact that she  _had_ had a child.

Raiha still wasn't entirely sure how she felt about that, though resignation and acceptance were close runners for the main feeling.

Instead, she wandered the market in an absent way, taking note of new shops that had replaced some of the ones who hadn't been able to return. A startled yelp snagged her attention and she jumped aside in reflex as a wheeled fruit cart shot past her, heading for the fountain, chased by its owner who was yelling apologies as he passed by.

She blinked a few times, and snickered a little as the cart met the fountain, all the fruit within falling into the water, much to the owner's aggravated dismay. She walked calmly past as two of the guardsmen came to help the poor man gather up his fruit and his cart, taking the long bridge up to the castle.

Raiha was not alone there either, though she was one of the few people on foot. Most were riding horses, or in carriages, wearing clothes far more fine than hers. It made her stand out some, earning her some odd looks. She kept her spine straight, her head raised; these popinjays were not going to cow her into anything.

Getting into the lower levels of the palace was the easy part. Due to her nature of dress, it was presumed she was here as a petitioner, to share some grievance with the Queen and get a royal ruling on whatever was causing trouble within her small life. She was shown to a large waiting room where other people of varying stations in life were also gathered for the same thing, and elected to sit back and watch for a while.

It was fairly illuminating; a clerk would come by, take a name, and ask pertinent questions about the problem. In some cases, the clerk themselves could offer advice on how to handle the matter, though that only seemed to happen to one in ten with any sort of satisfaction. People would be escorted politely off a small handful at a time, clearly in order of case. Some of them returned to wait, others left, looking either satisfied or annoyed.

After an hour, Raiha simply leaned back on her stool, and found an oddly notched stone along the wall that, when pressed in slightly, shifted a section of the wall covered by a tapestry that was less then a foot away from her. Quietly, unobtrusively, she slipped between the hanging and the room, and into the tunnels, quietly closing the door behind her.

The tunnels, she found, were not well lit, but they did appear to have been cleaned recently. As this meant she wasn't walking through  _years_ of dust, she wasn't inclined to complain. Quiet listening indicated that they weren't patrolled either. She wasn't sure whether to be pleased or annoyed by that one, then shrugged lightly and decided to make her way up to the Queen's study. It wouldn't be the  _first_ time she'd done this, after all, and surprising Zelda sounded a bit like fun.

Raiha listened carefully at the paneling for several minutes, hearing a familiar muted voice humming a quiet song. Curiously, carefully, she slid the panel open enough to peer through, and couldn't stop the rueful smile at what she saw.

Zelda was sitting on the long, plush couch, a blond baby in her arms. At best guess, the child was a bit over a year in age, but she could easily make out the thatch of blond hair. After a moment in which she rehearsed what she ought to say, she slid the panel open and stepped silently out into the study.

“I wasn't expecting clean tunnels. I'm guessing you had them mapped?”

Zelda jumped, and her arms tightened in reflex around the baby. Raiha grinned a little, and pushed back her hood.

“You were expecting someone  _else_ to come through the tunnels?” she asked wryly as Zelda stared.

“R... Raiha?”

Raiha gave a perfunctory bow, then grinned again.

“Hey. Long time no se-gack!”

Whatever she'd expected, it had  _not_ been to be all but tackled by Zelda, who still carried the small child at that! She didn't  _quite_ fall, but she did stagger. Zelda just hugged Raiha with her free arm, her head on the redhead's shoulder. A little awkwardly, Raiha returned the hug, lightly patting her friend on the back.

“You have been away for  _far_ too long,” Zelda said after a moment, her voice a little wobbly. 

“Well... I had a few things to look into before I could be... mortal,” Raiha said carefully. “It took both more and less time than I had initially expected. It's... complicated.”

“I should have known...” Zelda smiled, and stepped back, wiping moisture from her eyes. “Here, come sit. There is much to tell you about.”

“Like the little mite you're carrying?”

Said little mite was looking up with big,very blue eyes at Raiha. Raiha looked back, a little nervously; she had never really known how to deal with babies. Children, sure, but babies always worried her.

Zelda smiled softly down at the baby, and led Raiha to the couch.

“This is Tetra, named for my grandmother,” she said. “Would you like to hold her?”

“Ahhh.... no. I'm.... babies and I aren't necessarily compatible, Zel. I'll watch though.”

Zelda nodded a little, accepting the answer, much to Raiha's relief.

“I'm guessing that's Link's daughter?” she hazarded after a moment.

“By blood, yes. But Ganon is also her father,” Zelda giggled a little. “You should see how he dotes. He goes all to pieces over her, always wanting to carry her around whenever they're in the same room.”

Raiha blinked.

“....that's very Gerudo of you,” she said after a moment, surprised.

“I am aware, yes,” Zelda's smile was warm. “Ganon has said the same thing. It is true that I am very fond of Link. But I am also very fond of Ganon... and I have missed you as well. I did not want you to think that perhaps there would be no place for you here. Because... because in truth, I think all four of us would be very good parents to this small one, and to any futures children that we can elect to have.”

Raiha just blinked again. This was _not_ the conversation she'd expected to have happen, not in the _least_. Being broadsided like this by _Ganon_ she could have understood. But Zelda? _Her_ Zelda?

“ _Very_ Gerudo of you,” she managed after several minutes. “I'm assuming your nobility is protesting?”

“Of course they are,” Zelda replied comfortably, rocking Tetra gently. “But it's not _up_ to them, it's up to _us_. And thus far, Link, Ganon, and I are quite happy with how things have one. They've both missed you rather terribly...”

Raiha rubbed the back of her neck sheepishly.

“Well... I didn't exactly _know_ what was going to happen. And then... then I had a few things left to do before my duty was fully discharged.”

“And is it now?”

She shrugged a little, leaning over Tetra and dangling a small gem on a chain for the baby to grab for. Blue eyes tracked the sparkling stone; Raiha smiled a little as the girl gurgled, and grabbed as she was supposed to. Holding babies was confusing, but this sort of thing she'd done with cousins all the time, back when she'd had them.

“More or less. It's not _my_ problem any more, at least. What happens now depends on what happens in the desert, and if the nobles can keep their greedy, sticky paws out of the place.”

“What did you do?” Zelda asked.

“....get interrupted, mostly,” Raiha replied, annoyance flickering through her voice. “I might've been back sooner if he'd waited another six months, but nooo, he had to go in right when I was working. _And_ get himself sick so that I had to drop everything and make sure his sorry ass didn't die.”

Zelda giggled a little, and leaned lightly against the redhead.

“He did very good, I thought, to wait and help for a year, even if he did make a number of things explode.”

“...still doing that?”

“Yes, but now it's on purpose.” The queen paused for thought, gently putting Tetra on a nearby blanket so the baby could play with the plush toys nearby. “Mostly. Do you want me to tell them you are here?”

Raiha was quiet for a moment.

“....not both at the same time. Pretty sure one is going to yell at me and the other will cry on me, and I'd rather not have it happen at once, because _knowing them_...”

Zelda laughed softly, nodding in understanding.

“Then, do you have a preference to whom I tell first?”

“....not really. Whoever's least busy right now, I suppose?”

“Well, I had to send Link to deal with some issues in the East, near Kakariko, so I suppose you'll be getting yelled at first,” she teased gently. “Did you know he now has two younger brothers?”

“That's news to me,” Raiha chuckled a little. “I remember how much he hovered over his sister when she was born. Does he go home often to dote on them?”

“Well, being Queen's Champion does have its perks,” Zelda nodded a little. “Unless I need him for something important, like that problem he's currently working on, he's usually helping to train guardsmen. He's got a knack for that, which is wonderful. Ganon, as you might have heard already is-”

“Master of the Guard, I know. I could tell. Some of the gaurdsmen in town look like they've been doing some Gerudo-styled training,” Raiha grinned a little. “I can improve on that, at least, once he's done yelling at me.” She paused thoughtfully, then snickered a little. “Can I borrow Tetra for that meeting?”

Zelda laughed, and gave Raiha a gentle push.

“No using the daughter as a shield. She's not old enough,” the blonde mock-scolded.

Raiha sighed theatrically, then grinned wryly, carefully dropping an arm around Zelda's shoulders.

“Killjoy.”

Zelda only smiled and leaned her head more comfortably against Raiha's shoulders.

“I have a court position for you as well, if you'll accept it?” Zelda asked after several minutes of comfortable silence.

“Depends on what it is.”

“Royal Sage.”

Raiha blinked, and straightened in surprise.

“Just because you're not immortal any longer doesn't make you any less who you were... _are,”_ Zelda continued, her expression and tone turning serious. “And you have more knowledge than anyone else I've ever met, on pretty much every subject I can think of, and no doubt more that I cannot. You're sensible, and have no patience for the nobility's attempts at double-talk, though you can do it quite well yourself, and... and I really do want you to stay, but I know you like having something to _do_ , and you would do this job well, I think... Please?”

“Zellie, you don't have to offer me a job to make me stay,” Raiha said, surprised all over again. “All you have to do is ask.”

“Yes, I know, but I...” Zelda looked down at her hands for a long moment, then over at the baby, who was happily pulling on the legs of a stuffed wolf. “The four of us are not that much alike in personality, but... we all need to feel as though we are doing something, accomplishing... something worthwhile. You're the same.... I remember, after all, that you were at your most content when you were teaching me. Link has said the same; you were always at your best when giving him lessons.

“As the Royal Sage, your biggest challenge will be finding, or making, spell primers. I remember you saying that with the Triforce repaired and replaced that magic would return, and...”

Zelda's words trailed off, and Raiha just studied the paler woman. There was a lot that Zelda wasn't saying, and Raiha could read it all. Worry, loneliness... even the fear of abandonment. It wasn't writ loud or large; it couldn't be, not with the way she'd been taught. But because Raiha had been the teacher, she knew.

Eventually she just sighed in pure irritated exasperation. It made Zelda blink.

“Children,” the redhead muttered, leaning back and away from the other woman so that she could rub her forehead.

“...I suppose compared to yourself, I am,” Zelda smiled a little sadly.

“You and Link, and yes, even the idiot, are all children by comparison,” she sighed again. “Look, I'll be honest, hearing about the baby made me worried. Your words have helped alleviate that worry a bit, but now it depends on the boys, and while you might know what they think, and _I_ might know what they think, until I actually see them again, and talk with them, one-on-one like I'm doing with you now, I won't know for certain if I'm actually going to stay or not.

“And unlike you,” Raiha continued after a pause, “I'm actually okay with that. It's been the standard of my life for the _whole_ of it. I'm a very transient being because otherwise, I couldn't do the thing I was meant to do. Right now, in this moment, there are very strong bonds of affection and friendship that can easily sway me into staying. If there's more than that,I don't know, and even if I did, I probably wouldn't say because there _are_ things I am reticent about, you know.”

Her tone had lightened enough that Zelda smiled a little, nodding.

'Feelings' were a thing Raiha understood, and had mostly divorced herself of. Mostly. She was mortal enough to know that some things were inevitable, and space, distance, gave her solace, but at the same time the Gerudo were, to a woman, sociable by nature. And as much as she'd hated being Gerudo at times, she had been born and raised to the clan. She had been accepted _into_ a clan and learned what she hadn't been able to in her first life, and taken great pains to remember those things, even as other memories dimmed.

If nothing else, sustained by those memories, she knew which option it was time to at least partially discard.

“You'll have me at least until I've had my conversation with Link, at which point I'll decide... which way to let the arrow fly.”

Zelda's expression was masterfully controlled, but Raiha could see the sad acceptance in her eyes. Knowing that she could not—more importantly _would_ not—offer any reassurance that might not be true, Raiha just shrugged a little in recognition of her own fallacies, and changed the subject.

“You don't have any meetings today?”

“Not at the moment, but unfortunately, within the hour I will have to go and help the people that have come with specific grievances. I had hoped that I would be able to raise Tetra without the benefits of a nanny, but it would seem that is not the case.”

Raiha chuckled a little.

“At least you're doing better than your own father did,” she pointed out dryly. “He left you _entirely_ to the nanny, and then entirely to me when I arrived to begin giving you lessons. I think he regretted that, but I admit, you do look like your mother. You _sound_ like me, though.”

Zelda chuckled a little.

“And what a grand gift that was, for many reasons,” she replied, leaning forward to watch as Tetra started pulling herself across the blanket towards the two women. “You taught me much wisdom, and your voice has always been the one to reach me easiest in dire times. A number of the problems I have solved recently were mostly due to thinking about how you might handle the problem.”

Raiha laughed.

“I am probably the _worst_ person to emulate when dealing with the crap your court gets up to, kiddo,” she said wryly.

“Actually, you're quite helpful. You easily intuit what they are up to, and the only reason you never get involved is because it had been to small and petty. You're an example, though, not... a blueprint.”

Raiha snickered this time.

“Better. Nayru knows I have no patience for their bickering and land squabbles. You don't either, but you're better at diffusing such situations, as suits the ruler of Hyrule. I don't doubt there are some idiots who make you throw things once you're in a safe place, but you've never lost your temper outside of a few times when you were still learning.”

“...times when you were away, at that,” Zelda said with a note of surprise in her voice.

“Oh, I hear everything eventually,” Raiha smiled a little, being deliberately mysterious.

Zelda huffed slightly, making the redhead snicker again.

“One, there's the tunnels. Utilized properly, they are very good spying tools,” she said with an impish smirk. “Two, servants gossip and it's not hard to disguise myself. Three, guardsmen all talk. Sitting in the mess hall with them is a very good way to glean information that is light, and non-confidential.”

“I.... do not know what to do about the tunnels. Ganon is concerned as well...”

Raiha nodded in understanding.

“Guards would be bad, because they're secret for a reason,” She said stretching an arm out absently. “Trust the wrong person, and that secret can become a liability. And knowing him, he's still blowing up spells that require a delicate touch, despite the training I've given, and no doubt the training he's more fully recalled.”

“...you would not be incorrect, though most of the time he blows things up on purpose now.”

“Which probably means he's not _trying_ to work the little spells.”

Zelda sighed, nodding a little. Raiha snorted.

“Add that to the list of things to yell back about. Anyways. Point. I can set up alarm spells in them, keyed to go off if anyone you _don't_ want using them shows up in them. I'd guess Link, Ganon, and yourself, plus the baby?”

“No doubt you as well,” Zelda said a little archly.

Raiha only grinned.

“It'll have to wait _for_ Link, since I'd need him here to tie him in,” the redhead continued. “It's much easier to tie in everyone at once than it is to go back and add in new people. Though I expect I'll have to do that at some point if you have more children. Were you considering having more children?”

“...I was, but not until Tetra is at least five years of age. Old enough to understand that I.. _we_ , will love her no less just because there will be another sibling.”

Raiha smiled faintly, nodding. More conservative than a true Gerudo, but then, there was no need to try and preserve a dying race any longer. Zelda could afford to do things that way.

“I'll teach you the spell then. But not now. You have a meeting in about twenty minutes.”

Zelda sighed a little, picked Tetra up, and got to her feet.

“Then I suppose I shall have to give Tetra to the nanny, since you would otherwise unfairly utilize her presence to avoid a shouting match,” she teased gently. “And I can show you a room that you can claim as your own, though you'll have to find the housekeeper yourself. Ganon will be in his office, so if you wish to argue, that is probably the place. If nothing else, you will be half-rescuing him from the paperwork side of his job, which he seems to not care for.”

“Maybe I should let him suffer for a few more hours,” Raiha said, a wicked grin crossing her face. “Have him be too tired to get snippy.”

“Is that a state he can get into?” Zelda asked curiously as they headed out of the study.

“....probably.”

“Hmmm...”

Raiha snickered a bit and offered a light shrug.

“Well, it could happen. He has a finite amount of energy now, even if it's far more than anyone else. Which should change, now that things are back where they belong. It won't be a fast change, but we'll start seeing the start of it within the next decade, give or take a few months.”

“You mean there will be _more_ people accidentally blowing things up?”

Raiha's grin turned downright impish.

“It may even be your own daughter~”

Zelda made a face at her former teacher. Raiha only laughed.

It was good, if temporary, to feel at home again.

“By the way. What _did_ you do to your hair?”

 


	2. Ganon

Ganon

 

Truth be told, Raiha wasn't actually looking forward to speaking to Ganon. While generally speaking she considered holding grudges to be a waste of breath, she was still rather annoyed with him about the Sky Cannon incident, as well as his annoying insistence on getting in the way of what she had hoped would be some quick work in the desert.

And she _had_ saved his life in the desert, because letting him die—as annoyed as she was with him—was not actually high on his list of priorities.

She could remember, with effort, the words Nabooru had once told her; Ganon had been a good man once. The Sage of Spirit had wanted him to be that again, though at the time, none of them had even the slightest clue as to how to turn that wish into a reality.

Confining him between the worlds had seemed like a good idea at the time. It was only marginally better than sending him into the Twili Realm. At least in the void the only thing he'd been able to affect was himself.

She sighed a little, and slowed her steps, hood and cloak left behind in the room Zelda had granted her. It was nearly summer here, in the damper, cooler climate of Hyrule, and had only been necessary to avoid being spotted on the way in, anyways. No doubt by now half the palace had seen her walking with Zelda, so there was little point in the secrecy that had brought her there in the first place.

Her reluctance to speak also came from a reluctance to actually fight, and Ganon, who had few ways of handling her laconic way of speaking, would only get angry at her refusal to explain many things he would not doubt see as pertinent. But it _had_ been five years... perhaps he was in better control of his temper.

Raiha snorted a little, amused at herself. And perhaps the hawk would learn to swim, and the fish to fly among the clouds as sparrows did.

It wasn't hard to find the training yard of the guardsmen. All she had to do was follow the shouting, and the clash of practice weapons. If, as the princess—the queen, damnit—assumed, he was cooped up in his office dealing with burgeoning paperwork, she would watch the men fight for a bit. She was curious to see how much, if any, actual Gerudo footwork was among those who used spears and swords.

If he was not, it wouldn't take him long to see her. If anything, a _physical_ fight would be more cathartic to the both of them.

As she cast her eye across the guardsmen—some of whom noticed her and straightened—she did not see the man that would have stood a head above everyone else. She sighed a little, and went instead to lean on the fence and watch.

They were not, on a whole, terrible fighters. She could see Link's hand in some of their training, mostly because it resembled _her_ hand. She knew how certain moves were strung together; she didn't often _do_ that outside of demonstration, but she knew the sets well.

Battle, after all, was chaos. It was not a dance with set movements, it wasn't a thing that was fair. In war especially, it was fight, or die.

After a moment she half-smiled at herself, so pragmatic and knowing that some would think her honorless. She did not fight for the glory, for the thrill. She fought only when she had to, and she fought with the intent of survival. Her moves were cheap, economical, and unfair. So, while amused by the showy movements of the practicing men, she also ended up feeling vaguely offended by what was clearly them _making_ elaborate flourishes.

If nothing else, she would have to talk to Ganon about _that_.

Or maybe Link.

….maybe not.

She watched, and she listened, for the better part of an hour, shaking her head a little at times. Her hair, shorn short once more in freedom, lightly tickled the back of her neck as strands escaped the tight leather strip she had used to tie it back. Absently she wondered if she shouldn't cut it shorter, to prevent the tickling, then pushed it out of her mind. She could only stall so long, and if she stalled _too_ long, Zelda's private dinner for the three of them would be a mess of yelling, and temper. She wasn't _entirely_ sure that she'd be forgiven if she did that.

With a reluctant sigh, she turned towards one of the wooden buildings in the courtyard that was built less like a barrack, and more like a small house.

It _was_ a small house, actually; previous Masters hadn't been personally involved with the queen's love life, after all. They typically had a family of their own, and maybe children. The house was sized for at least three, if her guess was correct. She wondered absently if anyone lived there since he undoubtedly didn't.

She didn't bother knocking. If her memory was correct—and it wasn't always—the office, _his_ office, would be on the top floor, where he could look out over the training soldiers. In this case, she wasn't wrong.

The door to said office was open, which was a bit surprising. Him standing at the window, looking out of it, was much less so. She leaned against the doorframe, and studied what she could see of him thoughtfully.

His hair had grown rather ridiculous, she decided. A long, fiery-red unruly mane barely contained by the leather tie. His clothes were plain, but she could see the Gerudo emblems he'd embellished—or had someone do for him—on the hems and cuffs. There was a pile of papers on his desk, sorted surprisingly neatly.

“Are you waiting for an invitation?”

She blinked, then shrugged lightly.

“It _is_ your office.”

“You barged into the house,” he pointed out, without turning.

“Yes, because I knew where the office _was_. At the farthest end.”

“One of the secretaries might've heard you.”

Raiha rolled her eyes.

“You don't _have_ any. I looked. How long have you been watching them?”

“Not long. If you're asking if I saw you, no, I didn't. But you've got a pretty distinctive footstep when you're trying to be heard.”

She couldn't help the slight twitch of amusement at the corner of her mouth; she didn't even try. He was lying. She was willing to bet he'd been standing there for half an hour, trying to decide what to do. Still, she would give him the courtesy of letting him think she believed him.

“Well, it's generally a bad idea to sneak up on a properly trained Gerudo. Especially one that has this bad habit of making everything explode.”

He made a faintly aggravated sound, and turned around finally. Then he stared. Raiha rolled her eyes, having expected this.

“What did you do to your _hair?_ ” he demanded, outraged.

“What did you do to _yours_?” she shot back, not moving from her casual lean. “It looks like cats have tried nesting in it!”

Reflexively, protectively, he brought one hand back to briefly run over his own locks. In reply she reached up and untied the leather, allowing her hair to flutter around her face. She had cut it short in Lanayru's cavern, allowing the Light Spirit the dissolve the hair safely, and prevent potential misuse. She had kept only enough so that she could tie it back, as hair in her face was annoying and dangerous.

“In case you hadn't noticed,” she said dryly, “I'm mortal now. Any and all imperfections are now highlighted. And frankly, long hair is a pain to care for. Only juvenile Gerudo wore their hair long. Or those in positions of power and authority, who didn't _have_ to steal or fight.”

She gave him a pointed look. He had the grace to look somewhat embarrassed.

“Do you know how bad long hair is in a fight? Unless it's pinned up, it's a handhold for your enemy to use against you. If it gets in your face, it can blind you to a critical moment. It's also hot, uncomfortable, picks up dirt, sand, twigs, and even bugs sometimes, and no, _thank you_ , I'll keep my hair short until the day I _die_.”

He stared at her for several long minutes. After a moment, Raiha shrugged.

“Like I said. I'm mortal now.”

After a moment, his eyes took on a suspicious gleam.

“How long have you _been_ mortal?” he demanded.

“Long enough. If you mean how long have I been in town, I just arrived today, and have already met Zelda and the baby. Cute little thing. I'm guessing she happened while you were messing around in the desert, getting in the way like you often do.”

There was anger now, but underneath she saw something that looked like laughter. It was, in a way, funny. She had thought she didn't want the fight, didn't want to deal with it, and here she was purposefully starting it, just to have it done and over with.

And damn him, he wasn't rising to the bait.

“I wasn't _trying_ to get in the way,” he pointed out after a minute, his voice surprisingly even, despite the fact that she could tell his temper was fighting with his amusement.

“No, but that was the end result. And you nearly died from it too, you know.”

That sobered him; he glanced at the desk where a wooden box sat innocently.

“Yeah. I know. It was you, then.”

“Of course it was me,” she rolled her eyes a little. “And you're damn lucky it was! No one else would have been able to reach you in time. Do you know how _long_ I tended to your sorry ass out there?”

“....long enough for the other two to become worried.”

“You lost six months,” she said shortly. “And then, as if that wasn't bad enough, you went walking _away_ from Hyrule. What on earth were you looking for?”

“You.”

Raiha muttered a few words in a language she knew he didn't know, then sighed.

“If I had wanted to be found, I would have let you find me,” she pointed out acerbically. “As it was, I had to take time away from what I _needed_ to be doing just to make sure you weren't going to die out there.”

“What _were_ you doing out there?”

“What I needed to do. And I would've been done sooner if you'd been able to wait longer.”

He made a faintly frustrated sound, and glared at her.

“Damnit, woman, if it's _done_ , can't you talk about it?”

“If I wanted to talk about it, I would. I don't.”

He made another frustrated sound, stomping over to her.

“Why do you have to be so _aggravating_?!” he demanded. “You haven't changed at _all_.”

“Well,” and she smiled slowly, knowing full well that it would—and did—make him step back, “I _am_ Gerudo.”

Now it was his turn to mutter and curse under his breath. Raiha's smirk widened into a grin.

“And you are still _entirely_ to easy to aggravate.”

He glowered at her, then sighed.

“Okay. Fine, you won't discuss the past,” he grumbled. “Are you just here to say hello then?”

“....that depends,” she said after a long minute.

“On?”

“... a number of things.”

“Quite being opaque.”

She gave him a quick grin.

“And deprive myself of your annoyance? Where's the fun in that?”

Ganon made an exasperated sound, which made her snicker.

“Fine, what things are dependent on you staying. Because I know for a fact that Zelda doesn't want you to go anywhere.”

The turns of subject to something so series was admittedly a little impressive. He had learned, she could tell, to pick his battles with her. Well, if he was going to actually grow up, she could give him the benefit of actual conversation.

“Zelda obviously wants me to stay,” she agreed, finally entering the room and moving over to glance out the window. Then looked up at him, knowing full well that he was hovering. “Do you?”

His eyes narrowed as he looked down at her; Raiha only shrugged and met his gaze steadily. He looked away first, out the window again at the practicing soldiers.

“I spent a long time looking for you in that desert,” he muttered, arms folded defensively across his chest. “I _knew_ you healed me. You wouldn't do that if you thought I was better off dead. You think I _wouldn't_ want you to stay after all of that?”

She offered an indelicate shrug.

“It's been five years. A lot can change in that amount of time. A lot _did_ change in that amount of time. The baby... Tetra... was certainly a surprise.”

“Does it sting?”

It was tempting to get curt and snippy, to deflect the question as she would have before. Instead she sighed. If she _was_ going to stay, she was going to have to figure out how to moderate her defensive reactions... to be unsure of her welcome was one thing, to actively wreck it was entirely another.

“A little. But, if I'm being honest, the fact that it happened didn't surprise me. Zelda taking the stance she has _on_ the situation, however, is one that does. I suppose she absorbed more that I meant for her to when I was teaching her as a child.” And Raiha chuckled. “Not that this is a bad thing. Didn't it surprise you, or was that the direction they seemed to be heading by the time you left?”

He snorted a little, and sat down in his chair. She could feel his eyes on her face, and chose to ignore them.

“I could see it coming a mile away, but your boy is too.... polite,” Ganon said after a minute, smiling thinly. “It wasn't _why_ I left, though. When I was told, I was entirely caught off guard. My first thought was that I was going to have to kill someone.”

“That would explain the crater in the hills.”

He gave her a sour look.

“I may not be able to track the Triforce pieces, but you still have a _long_ way to go before it'll be difficult to track _you,”_ she said dryly, smirking at him. “You still haven't figured out how to shield your power completely. Plus, I've heard you still blow things up.”

He snorted, but there was a tug of a smile at the corners of his mouth. She watched with veiled amusement as he gave up fighting it after a minute.

“I only blow things up when certain noble individuals are being particularly stubborn.”

“Uh huh. Still as ham-handed as ever, I see. Brute force displays only go so far, you know.”

“Ah, but that's the beauty of it,” now he grinned. “Zelda sweeps in, scolds me for being over-dramatic, and they feel as though they've gotten a defender, and are more libel to work _with_ her after that.”

Raiha's eyebrows went up as she considered the idea, idly twisting strands of hair in her fingers.

“Clever,” she finally admitted. “Still a bit roughshod, but for you, that is subtle.”

“I'll take that as a compliment, since I'm sure it was an insult.”

She laughed.

“No, no, that was a compliment,” she grinned at him. “If I was being insulting, you would know.”

“How?”

Her grin only widened. If he couldn't guess, she wasn't going to tell him. Where would the fun in that be?

He huffed at her, then rolled his eyes.

“You are different, but still annoying,” he grumbled.

“I'm free,” Raiha said, her voice softening. “Fully, completely, utterly free. That does change things. Not.... everything. But enough.”

She felt him study her, and turned to look, raising an eyebrow. After a moment, he just shrugged.

“Somehow, I don't think you'll ever change enough for it to matter.”

“...now who's giving out backhanded compliments?”

“Hey! That wasn't-” He glared when she laughed. “See? That. That right there. That'll never change.”

“Maybe when you stop being so easy to tease,” she chortled a little. “You get more defensive than I do.”

“....I have more to lose,” he grumbled.

Raiha blinked, and the humor fled.

“Explain.”

His expression was wary now; she was willing to guess he hadn't meant for it to sound quite so dire, and eased back on the ice that had invaded her tone.

“Sorry,” she said after a moment. “ _Please_ explain.”

After a moment he sighed, and ran a hand over his face.

“Just politics,” he said a little dryly. “Nothing really to worry about, since I doubt Zelda will ever let the loudmouths beyond the areas they're in, while keeping myself, Link, and you close.”

She eyed him narrowly.

“Don't bother lying to me,” she said flatly, hands on her hips. “I've had centuries of reading people, I can _tell_.”

He grimaced, and looked away. Raiha waited patiently, folding her arms over her chest instead. When no answer appeared to be forthcoming, she made an exasperated sound of her own.

“If you won't tell me, then I'll have to guess,” she warned him.

“...you have... places,” he finally said reluctantly. “Even if you decide to leave the palace for whatever reason, there's many different areas you can go. Zoras, Gorons, Kakariko, even that little province down south where the... you know.”

“Ah... I see.”

And she _did_ see. While admittedly rootless, there _were_ plenty of places she could go, plenty of different people she could have as family if she wanted.

“You could have that too,” she said after a minute, thoughtful instead of sympathetic. Sympathy would only irritate him. “You'd just have to travel more.”

He snorted, then shrugged.

“I was a king,” he said quietly. “Annoying as it may be, I find comfort in doing things in the manner I would have before the Shade's intervention and ruination. Politics are still something I'm good at, and despite your jokes, Zelda and I _are_ good at it.”

“Rulers know their people,” she pointed out. “Not individuals, maybe, but a wise one knows more than they appear. I know Zelda's going to be making a progressional check soon, a Grand Progress. You should go with her.”

“Even knowing that there will never be an official consort?”

Raiha snorted, and moved close enough to cuff him upside the head. He responded by swearing at her.

“You're Gerudo,” she retorted, jabbing his forehead jewel for emphasis. “Did you _ever_ intend a consort of your own, or was it enough to have the harem?”

His jaw dropped. Raiha sighed in amused exasperation.

“Of course I know. Remember? Detour? I was around _centuries_ before you were born in this timeline. I had the chance to learn, and see, and be accepted as a leader well before anything rolled around that I had to have a personal hand in.” She sighed a little. “And yes, I made mistakes. Immortality doesn't convey omniscience. Just a chance to make new and interesting mistakes that I, and others, paid for. Which is neither here nor there at the moment.

“The _point_ being that if you want to be _seen_ as Zelda's second, without displacing Link from his place as her Champion, then you need to _step up and do it._ Otherwise, people will always think there's a hole waiting to be filled.”

He stared at her for a long minute more, blinking.

“And if I don't?”

“Well, that's your mistake then,” she shrugged. “And if you're fishing for a specific response, something along the lines of me saying I'll take the spot, don't. It's entirely transparent, and I'm making no promises _to anyone_ until I know for certain which was I want this particular ball to drop.”

“And you're not going to be certain until you talk to the kid,” he grumbled. “Here, I can send him a note-”

“No,” she said shortly. “Link is handling something under Zelda's discretion, and I don't want to distract him. You _know_ what that knowledge will do.”

“You don't know that it'll distract him,” Ganon said after a minute.

Raiha gave him an arch look, and after a moment he grimaced, and leaned back in his chair.

“I trained him off and on for eight years,” she said wryly. “And I know his very puppy-like tendencies. So. Yes, I do know that it'll distract him. What's he doing, anyways, I didn't ask?”

“Nothing too major. The Gorons have a few moblins trying to make a home in their mines, so he's doing his best to chase them out. I got a note about an hour ago that said he thought he'd be done in another couple of days. Three at the most.”

She nodded a little in understanding. Gorons were good at wrestling and boxing, but moblins tended to prefer fighting from a distance, and were _very_ good shots. While Gorons were tough, they were not invulnerable, and outside intervention was occasionally necessary.

“So a week, theoretically, give or take a couple days. All right.”

“And you'll stay at least until then?”

“Yes. Why?”

Ganon smirked a little.

“Two reasons. One, I want your help with some of the soldiers' training. And two, you still owe me.”

“...of course you would remember that,” she sighed a little. “Despite playful banter and not-exactly arguments, I still haven't decided if I should forgive you for the Cannon.”

Annoyance crossed his face, but after a moment, reluctant acceptance followed.

“Fair enough,” he sighed. “Will you help me with the training, though?”

“Sure. The flourishes they're throwing in are _exceedingly_ annoying.”

That made him laugh, and he pushed himself out of the chair with what looked to be relief to her. She couldn't blame him; paperwork was boring as hell, even if it was necessary sometimes.

“Then let's go show them how to do it _right_ , shall we?”

Raiha smiled, ever so slightly.

“Let's.”

 

 


	3. Link

Link

 

There was more than enough to do to distract her until Link's return. Training with—and beating on—Ganon in the guise of showing recruits that their flashy moves were bound to get them into trouble was the most fun. Getting new clothing was nice; hers had all been worn enough to need replacing, even if she hadn't want to admit to it. Informal dinners with Zelda and Ganon were highly amusing, as well as informational; watching how they interacted was pleasing, and she wondered absently if the next baby Zelda had wouldn't have the same red hair as the man sitting at the table.

Some things were not as fun; she had never been terribly political except when necessity forced her hand. It gave Ganon something to tease her about, which she allowed since she was little inclined to be anything other than straightforward, and the nobility generally reacted to straight talk as though it was a poisonous snake.

All right, maybe teasing the nobility was a _little_ fun. Telling the younger ones to push off was certainly amusing, though it could border into irritating if they didn't take 'get lost' as their answer. She hadn't hurt anyone _yet_ , but she had come close a couple of times. The ones clearly fishing for information she ignored full-out; if they couldn't figure things out on their own, they clearly weren't worth the effort of talking to.

It was raining lightly, on the day Link returned. She watched the procession from Zelda's study with mild amusement, half her attention on Tetra, who was playing nearby on a blanket—the nanny was sick, and it was safer this way, unease or no. Zelda's overt greeting was, as it undoubtedly needed to be, formal. Ganon's was less so, and it was both strange and amusing to see the two embrace.

After a moment of watching, Raiha retreated from the window to sit nearer to the baby, and opened a book to pass the minutes until Link would be obliging about throwing the door open in haste.

He didn't keep her waiting long, though the door wasn't flung open like she'd thought it might be. It was opened with care, and he looked in uncertainly, glancing around until he saw both where she was sitting, and where Tetra was playing. That was good, she decided after a moment, setting the book down. It meant she wouldn't have to warn him to watch his step.

When he did step in, she raised an eyebrow.

“Didn't even take the time to change out of the armor?” she asked, more amused than anything else.

Link flushed a bit, shaking his head. He didn't rush over, now that he was in the room; he hovered. Waiting for permission. After a moment, Raiha patted the couch, and _then_ he scurried, flopping down quickly onto the indicated cushion. It made her chuckle a little.

“Breathe puppy,” she said with a faint smile. “Calm down.”

He was behaving _exactly_ like an excited puppy would, practically quivering at the sight of her. She studied him, then reached out and lightly touched his chin.

“What happened here?” she asked, raising an eyebrow at the thin scar running slantwise. “Are you slacking?”

“No!” he protested, reaching up and catching her hand. “I would never!”

His earnest denial made her laugh, and she turned her hand in his so she could squeeze his palm in a friendly manner.

“ _Relax_ Link. I was kidding. But what _did_ happen?”

“....Ah, well...” Now he hung his head a bit sheepishly. “There was a duel... and I didn't dodge fast enough?”

“So you _were_ slacking.”

The put out look on his face made her laugh. He was still so _young_ , despite now being in his early twenties. She couldn't really help the desire to tease him.

“Oh stop pouting,” she said, using her free hand to gently poke his nose. “Your face will get stuck like that.”

“Won't,” he huffed a little.

Raiha just chuckled a little, and half-shrugged.

“Your little one is cute,” she said, tone deliberately light. “I gather she was unexpected?”

He paled a little, and his eyes searched her face. After a moment she patted his head lightly.

“You can breathe, you know,” she said dryly. “I'm not offended. _Amused_ , mostly. But there's no point to being offended. I never promised undying love, and you never promised unwavering loyalty.”

He looked down at the couch, then over at the baby girl, who had pushed herself into a crawling position and was scooting rapidly across the floor after a bright colored ball.

“I didn't... _mean_ to,” he said haltingly. “But...you were gone. And... and Gan was gone. And there was just so much to do. It just...”

Raiha sighed, slid closer, and put an arm around him. He pressed his head against her shoulder, and she rested her chin on his hair.

“It's all right, Link,” she said quietly, gently. “I've never once wanted to try and lay sole claim to you. I'm pretty sure I knew well before you did that you were getting fond of Ganon. Zelda wasn't unexpected either; I pretty much raised her myself, when not working with you. It's hard _not_ to care about her. She's everything she ought to be.... and then more because I worked with her, instead of some royal tutor or nanny.”

Timidly, Link put an arm around Raiha's waist.

“You're... not upset?”

“....kiddo, I gave up any right to being upset after I spent the first six months working on my last project,” she said quietly. “Time passes, people move. Like a river's flow, it never ends.”

The words were so old they made her smile a sad, lonely smile. Sheik.... how she missed him still.

“I am sorry I stayed away so long,” she continued, lifting her head to glare at the door. “The _eavesdropping idiot_ decided he had to get in the way.”

Ganon stuck his head around the door and glared at her. Link lifted his head, feeling a bit on the embarrassed side, but seemed reluctant to move, which Raiha didn't much mind. She most certainly had her answer, in any case. Her decision was going to take a couple more days, but the answer to her questions left her feeling warm inside.

“The 'eavesdropping idiot' wasn't eavesdropping,” Ganon grumbled. “I was coming to get Tetra.”

“And yet you were standing there for five minutes, and Zelda, I know you're there too, stop pretending you're invisible.”

The blonde woman at least had the grace to blush. Raiha rolled her eyes at both of them.

“Take the tiny and shoo,” she said sternly. “I spoke _alone_ with both of you, now if you don't mind, I'd like to do the same with Link. We can _all_ talk later.”

Ganon looked a bit put out by that, and glanced away when she shot him a glare. Zelda solved the problem by neatly depositing Tetra into the taller man's arms, effectively distracting him while she gathered up the blanket and a few of the toys, then led the way out of the study, closing the door firmly behind her.

Raiha waited an extra ten minutes before shaking her head.

“Fussballs,” she sighed. “Honestly.”

“S...sorry?”

She glanced down at him, then sighed again and ruffled his hair.

“It's not your fault. It's not _anyone's_ fault. It is the way it is. And really, it just means they care.”

“They missed you,” he said after a minute. “Me too.”

“I know.”

“Are you back to stay this time? Like you said you would?”

She hesitated.

“...you're not a child any more,” she said finally. “But you're still so pure...”

He frowned up at her, making her smile ruefully.

“I know, I know. That's not an answer. The truth is...” she leaned back on the couch, tipping her head up to stare at the ceiling for a moment. When she spoke again, her voice was softer. “The truth is that I'm not sure. I keep telling myself that I'm mortal. I'm free. I'll finally age and die the way everyone else will. But... but I suppose it just doesn't seem _real_ yet.”

Hesitantly he snuggled up to her again, trying not to blush when she draped her arm absently over his shoulder. After a long moment, she just sighed and straightened up, shaking her head a little.

“I suppose it doesn't matter. Hyrule is my home. And you three are... family. Whether I like it or not. So even if I leave, I'll always come back. Okay?”

He surprised her by leaning up and kissing her cheek.

“Okay.”

Raiha stared at him, feeling heat flood her cheeks. He had gotten _bolder_ in the past five years, that much was certain. But, as she watched his own face turned bright red too. Despite her remaining uncertainty, she couldn't help but laugh a little helplessly.

If this was what it meant to be alive.... well...

She would take it.

All of it.


End file.
